


Last Call

by Tarvera



Series: Silver Moon Bar [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Bartender Chris Argent, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Chris Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarvera/pseuds/Tarvera
Summary: It was better to wait, do it now and later the kid might blame it on the drinking and think he’d made a poor decision. If Chris waited, he was pretty sure he could swing this into something more than a one off. And the longer he listened to the kid talk, oh did he want it to be something more than once. Stiles was just his type of smart mixed with asshole, all packaged together in a tight, pretty body.So instead, he leaned in as Stiles was getting in the car and squeezed one of the kid’s hips. Breathing hot air right into the kid’s ear, he said, “See you in a week, Stiles.” With that, he backed up and shut the door, smirking at the stunned expression on the kid’s face. If he jerked off that night to the picture of those plush lips, wrapped around his dick, well, who could really blame him? The kid would be back, of that he was sure.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Silver Moon Bar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059980
Comments: 13
Kudos: 252
Collections: Bar AU





	Last Call

It was a lucky thing that the kid walked in on a Wednesday night. Anyone paying attention would have been able to tell that the kid was already on the borderline between tipsy and drunk. He had a tall lithe frame, tousled brown hair, and an ass that was begging to be fucked. When he got up to the bar, the mournful brown eyes would have tugged at a lesser man’s soul. 

Chris just sighed and shoved a glass of water at the kid. “Be with you in a minute.” He said, already turning back to Doc on the other side. Doc ran interested eyes over the kid’s body, opened a mouth to say something, but stopped at the look on Chris’ face. After he’d topped off Doc’s drink, he turned back to the kid. The water was half gone, which was a good sign. It meant that the kid was at least coherent enough to realize the benefits of hydrating. 

“What’ll it be?” He asked, offering the kid a warm smile with the words. 

“Uh, rum and coke.” The wide eyed look he got, spoke to the kid’s naivety but at least the order wasn’t some damn hippy drink. 

“Sure.” Watching the kid of the corner of his eye let him notice the not at all subtle checking out the kid was giving him. Hiding a smirk, he set the drink down and gave another smile before moving back to the sink to wash some nonexistent dirty glasses. 

Wednesdays were the slowest night of the week. No sport teams to watch or end of the week to celebrate. Chris couldn’t help the twitch his lips gave as he thought of the kid coming in on a Tuesday. Tuesday had somehow become bingo night and the bar was always packed with all the retired local folks. It was also the only night of the week he served more food than frozen pizzas. Thinking of food made him give the kid another sideways glance. 

His lips twitched again at the morose look the kid was giving the glass in front of him. The poor thing looked more than just the normal type of miserable and it made Chris’ heart twinge just a little. Between that and the way Doc was still eying him, made Chris wander his way back over. 

“Hungry?” 

“What?” The kid looked up, startled at being spoken to, but recovered quickly enough. “Oh, yeah, just didn’t figure you had food at a place -- I mean...just in general, doesn’t look like the type of place to have things to eat, oh shit, that made it worse, didn’t it?” 

Chris chuckled as he opened the freezer to pull out a pizza. “Sure did kid, but no offense taken. I cater to a specific clientele and most of them ain’t here for the food.” 

“Damn straight we’re not.” Doc said, muttering the words into his beer. 

“Nobody asked you, Doc.” Hank Martin said the words with a growl. Hank and Doc were currently feuding over the correct way to trim the shrubs that separated their yards. Every Wednesday they’d sit on opposite sides of the bar and snipe at each other. Trying to drag whomever was there in on the fight with them. 

Chris rolled his eyes and winked at the kid, enjoying the blush he got in response. He put the pizza into the oven, making sure to turn his hips in the way that pulled his jeans tight. It wasn’t every day a cute twink like this one walked into his bar and he wasn’t about to ignore the chance of a good fuck down the road. 

The rest of the evening passed much faster than the first half had. Doc grumbled his way out of the door not long after Hank did and only a few others came in and out throughout the night. He made sure to swing back and check on the kid every twenty minutes or so. By ten pm, they were the only two there and he’d found out a whole dearth of information. 

The kid’s name was Stiles, he was there that night to hide from his friends who had invited his ex to a group hangout. Apparently, Stiles had walked straight out of the fancy, hipster bar and kept walking until he found someplace he thought his douche of an ex wouldn’t dream of coming into. The stammered, blushing apology Chris got for that comment had taken all of his willpower not to bend the kid over right there and then. 

It was better to wait, do it now and later the kid might blame it on the drinking and think he’d made a poor decision. If Chris waited, he was pretty sure he could swing this into something more than a one off. And the longer he listened to the kid talk, oh did he want it to be something more than once. Stiles was just his type of smart mixed with asshole, all packaged together in a tight, strong body. 

In the end, he ordered the uber himself and made sure to wrap an arm around Stiles’ waist to bring him outside. The kid was still just on the edge of being drunk, but he wasn’t about to give up an opportunity to get his hands on that gorgeous body. Stiles, it seemed, didn’t mind so much, based on the way the kid’s body sagged into his while they waited for the uber to arrive. 

He enjoyed the way the kid stuttered through a goodbye probably more than he should have. It was obvious that Stiles was trying to get enough courage to ask him out or for a number. The nice thing would have been to take pity and ask himself. But, sometimes the reward was greater for the wait (and nobody had ever accused Chris of being nice). 

So instead, he just leaned in as Stiles was getting in the car and squeezed one of the kid’s hips. Breathing hot air right into the kid’s ear, he said, “See you in a week, Stiles.” With that, he backed up and shut the door, smirking at the stunned expression on the kid’s face. If he jerked off that night to the picture of those plush lips, wrapped around his dick, well, who could really blame him? The kid would be back, of that he was sure. 

* * *

Stiles could not get the hot bartender out of his head. The salt and pepper scruff that was just the perfect amount of stubble before becoming a beard. The calloused hands as they cleaned glasses. The way those hands had wrapped around him in just the right way. The squeeze, Chris had given his hip before whispering into his ear. He’d almost made the uber driver stop so he could get out and climb the man like a tree, right there on the street. His nerves and insecurities had gotten the better of him in the end, so he’d gone home and jerked off to the feeling of those warm hands on other parts of his body. 

So here he was, a week later, dithering outside the entrance to a dive bar that none of his friends would have ever been caught dead in. The fact that Jackson would have turned up his nose at a place like this, did give it a certain air of desirability. He still couldn’t believe his friends had done that to him last week. They knew he wasn’t over Jackson and they still invited that asshole out to Kira’s birthday. 

Thinking of Jackson made all his insecurities ramp up again. It was hard to believe that a man that looked like Chris would be interested in him. All of Jackson’s dismissals and put downs came swirling into his brain at once. It was only the memory of that deep, gravelly voice and hot breath over his ear, that gave him the courage to open the door and walk inside. 

The bar was just as quiet as it had been last week. The few regulars were there, same as before with only a couple extra. There was a lot more trepidation inside him this time as he made his way up to the bar. The warm smile Chris gave him, melted all those anxieties away in a heartbeat. 

“Hey, I’ll be there in one minute, Stiles.” That deep voice was exactly as he remembered it. Gulping, he quickly sat down. He was in so deep over his head here. The tingle of happiness that shot through him at the knowledge that Chris remembered his name was probably far too much given the situation. He couldn’t help it though, this burning feeling that he got in his gut, whenever Chris sent that smile his way. God, he was about to swoon, like in one of those old hollywood movies. 

By the time Chris swung around to him again, he had hopefully managed to get himself under control. The smirk Chris sent him at his stuttered drink order, made him think he might not have been as successful as he thought. The bartender had a way about him though, that just seemed to set Stiles at ease in a way so few could. Soon, he had relaxed and was chatting away in his normal rapid fire way, drinking in the warm looks and quick smiles. 

By the time closing came around, he was feeling pleasantly buzzed but had been careful not to overdo it. No way did he want alcohol to be the reason nothing happened tonight. Not that he knew for sure that something would happen. It was more likely that Chris was just being nice, probably, and all those warm looks were just the bartender thinking fondly of his kid or something. Shit. He had not realized that he had such a thing for DILFs before this bar and this man. 

“Help me clean up?” Chris said, with an easy smile and a broom in hand. 

“Sure, yeah, I’d like that.” Shit again, why did his words always sound so stupid? Chris just laughed and handed him the broom. Face burning, he grabbed it and started sweeping the far end of the bar. They worked in peaceful silence for a few moments, enjoying the smooth jazz music Chris had switched over to when the last patron had left. 

The sweeping finished, he was looking around for where to put the broom when a warm hand on his thigh made him pause and look up. Chris was mere inches away from, all hard muscle and warm skin. For a moment he wasn’t sure he could breathe as the hand squeezed his thigh and pushed him gently backwards. Meeting Chris’ gaze made desire race through his body at the look in the older man’s eyes. 

“May I kiss you, Stiles?” 

Not sure if he was dreaming or not, all he could do was nod vigorously, speech caught in his throat. The kiss was gentle at first, sucking at his lower lip as stubble brushed his jaw. The man was quick to deepen it, pressing into his mouth and owning it. He could do nothing but surrender to the hot mouth and warm hands as they pushed him up against something solid. 

Nothing had ever made him feel this way before. Chris was a solid line of heat against him and he could already feel his cock hardening. The man’s hands felt like they were touching everywhere on him at once and his whole body was thrumming with pleasure. When the hot mouth moved to suck and bite at his neck, the moan that escaped him couldn't be helped. 

Strong hands gripped his ass tight, pulling him up. Lost in the intensity of everything, he barely noticed as he was hefted into the air and placed on something hard. The angle put him slightly above Chris, allowing him to tangle his hands in the man’s short hair and hold on as he met the man’s lips again. The kiss seemed to go on forever, he had no idea kissing could get him this hard. Warm fingers slipped up, under his shirt and with a gasp he felt a hand start to play with his buckle. 

“That’s it, pretty boy.” Chris said, crooning the words into his ear before moving down to bite at the place between his jawbone and neck. “Do you want to be my good boy, Stiles?” 

“God, yes, please yes, fuck me please.” 

The man laughed against the skin of his neck, the hot air sending shivers down his spine. Leaving off, with one more nip, Chris pulled back. He whined at the loss of heat, but the man just smiled and tugged off his own shirt before moving to pull Stiles out of his own shirt. “Fuck yes…” Stiles said, eyes wide as he reached out to trace the muscles before him. There was only a few seconds of this before Chris was moving down, to bite at one of his nipples. 

The tongue and teeth on his sensitive nipple made him buck up with a strangled moan of pleasure. The mouth switched to the other nipple, sucking down hard in a way that made him throw back his head, open mouthed. All his muscles spasmed under the strain and swearing, he scrambled at his jeans. 

Hefting a hot breath of air against the abused nipple, Chris deftly rid him of his jeans and underwear and somehow had a lubed up finger in his hole before he even realized what was happening. The bartender had him laid out flat, legs circling Chris’ torso and writhing in pleasure. A firm, hot hand was on his cock, with just the right amount of pressure and roughness. 

One finger, two fingers, he lost count, as he was stretched open with maddening brushes to his prostate. It felt like his entire body was on fire with need and desire. He could hear his voice babbling at the other man, begging to be filled. Both all too soon and not soon enough, he felt the blunt head of Chris’ cock nudging at his opening. 

“That’s it pretty boy, look at you, all desperate for it.” The man’s deep voice seemed to encase him in pleasure. Whining, he tried to pull at Chris, whining when the man paused. “Beg me for it, pretty boy, tell me what you want.” 

Gasping out in a desperate moan, he couldn’t seem to get the words to form. Throwing back his head, he tried again. “Please, Chris, please fill me up, I need you in me. Fuck me, harder than anyone ever has, never felt like this, Chris...please…” 

“Fuck, kid.” Chris said, his voice strained. Gripping at Stiles’ hips, the man pulled him in while thrusting forward, seating himself fully into Stiles. The pleasure and heat seemed to rip through his body at the intrusion and his mouth was open in a wordless scream. Groaning, Chris picked up a brutal pace, fucking himself in and out of the tight body underneath him. 

There was nothing in the room except the two of them, the friction building the heat between their bodies, the slapping of skin against skin, loud in the empty bar. He felt so full, and so good as Chris found the perfect angle to ring pleasure out of him at every thrust. His hands scrambled at the bar, trying to find something to hold onto, finally clinging to Chris’ wrists in a failing effort to ground himself. 

A warm grip on his cock, one pump, two pumps and he came with a loud cry, almost blacking out from the force of his pleasure. Chris thrusted twice more, then stilled, coming deep inside him. Everything went hazy after that, he felt Chris pull out, leaving him so empty that he whimpered. A whispered voice, murmuring praises into his ear as warm hands pulled him up and over a shoulder. 

He felt them move somewhere, stairs at some point, before he was laid out in a soft bed. Something wet brushed over his sensitive cock and he whimpered. “Shhhh...you’re alright, pretty boy, you’ll thank me in the morning for not letting you sleep with cum on you.. That’s it, Stiles, go to sleep.” 

That voice was not one to be disobeyed and soon arms encircled him, pulling him close against a warm body. All his muscles seemed to go boneless and he drifted off to a deep sleep.


End file.
